


Sexual Orientation: "Open For Suggestion"

by Methoxyethane



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Crack, F/M, Humor, M/M, Multi, bisexual awakenings, fly by the seat of my pants writing, unedited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-14
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-10-31 13:42:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,417
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10900527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Methoxyethane/pseuds/Methoxyethane
Summary: In which Ryuji valiantly pretends he's not bi and none of his friends are hot.





	Sexual Orientation: "Open For Suggestion"

Ryuji still maintains that all three of them going to the gym together was a good idea. In _theory_.

In practice, however, Ryuji had not factored in that they’d all get hot from working out and take off the jackets of their tracksuits, wherein the natural choice for garment underneath was of course the tank top. Which meant Ann, sweaty and red-faced and constantly moving, _in a freaking tank top_.

Look, he could admit that as a teenage boy, Ryuji had a bit of a problem with pervyness. Especially when it came to Ann, because yes they were friends and he valued the things she had to say as a person, but my GOD that _body_. Like, he was doing his best to look at her face when they talked, but when she got all sweaty he was just _useless_.

So, because it was totally unfair of him to really really wish she was wearing an entire shirt right now because no one else had to wear an entire shirt in this gym, she’d overheat and collapse from dehydration so the thing to DO here was clearly… stop looking at Ann entirely.

Ryuji flung himself dramatically towards Akira, slinging an arm around his shoulders. “Man, it’s so hot! Why do they only have like three fans in this place and no AC, I swear I’m gonna die.”

Akira’s shoulders shifted under Ryuji’s arm when he put down his free weight, and man, this guy was like, **built** huh? Ryuji’d never really noticed because of how lean he is, but Akira’s shoulders were like, firm as hell under his arm. “It’s not a very good gym,” Akira shrugged, and Ryuji tried not to notice the shifting of hard muscles against his bicep and maybe actually he was gonna peel himself off of Aira right now, it was too hot for anybody to be touching anybody. “I don’t think anywhere in Yongen-jaya is air conditioned.”

“Y-yeah,” Ryuji agreed, rubbing the back of his neck and telling himself he was just looking at the way his friend's arms were all bare and muscley in that tank top because he was so surprised by how how um. Not nice, nice wasn’t the word Ryuji wanted, even if it was the only word coming to mind right now. Impressive, is what it was. All that… training for the Metaverse was really paying off. “Just gotta… get used to the heat.”

“UGH, but if we paid to get in the least they could do is put up more fans!” Ann appeared behind Ryuji as if by magic, or she walked over while Ryuji had been admiring the flex of Akira’s bicep and he just hadn’t noticed. “And you don’t even wanna _see_ what the women’s locker room is like, I’m definitely putting off a shower til I get home.” Oh go, now he was imagining that, why would she talk about herself in a shower that was just mean. Cruel awful beautiful woman currently taking her hair down from the messy bun she’d put it in while she was working out to have it cascade down her shoulders -

Ryuji turned around to look at Akira again, who was pulling out a water bottle. “We’re all done here, right? Should we go get something to eat?” He punctuated the question by biting down on the cap of his water bottle, popping it open with his teeth and taking a long drink that made the adam’s apple bob in his throat which RYUJI WAS NOT LOOKING AT DAMN IT.

“Yeah but I can’t afford much more than Wild Duck burger, and I really need to stop eating so much grease if I’m gonna take this supermodel thing seriously.” Ann, Ann was safe - Ann was not safe to look at, Ann had just grabbed the straps of her tanktop and sports bra underneath to shake out a bit of sweat and come ON, he was trying _so_ hard to be good here!

Akira finished his swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. And then wiping his forehead free from sweat too, a long swipe of his bangs out of his face where he wasn’t wearing glasses so Ryuji could see his entire stupid beautiful face because it was too freaking _HOT_ in here and every time he stopped looking at Ann for two seconds the gay thoughts came back instead. “We could get Chinese, I don’t mind covering the difference.”

He handed his water bottle to Ann, who took it gratefully and brought it up to her own pouty red lips to take a drink herself. “No way, you always ask for the weirdest favors when I let you buy me dinner,” she spoke the words directly against the cap of the bottle, waiting until the last word to drink and then taking a swallow so thirsty-large that when she removed the bottle from her mouth a few droplets of water spilled out, landing on her chin to drip down onto her collarbone before she could wipe it away, and he swore he wasn’t following the trail of that water droplet as it slowly crawled towards her cleavage. “What about ramen?”

“I went to Ogikubo twice last week,” Akira said with an audible frown accepting the bottle back from her and snapping it closed, and you know when he was looking at the floor like this Ryuji could hear how breathless and tired the workout had actually made him, making the drop of his already deep voice all husky like he was whispering dirty things right into your ear -

“BEEF BOWLS,” Ryuji shouted.

There was a moment of blank silence in the air. “That’s not a bad idea, the diner I work at is pretty cheap,” Akira offered lightly.

“Alright, we’ve got a plan,” Ann grinned, and oh thank god everyone was finally ready to put their clothes back on. God help him, Ryuji might just survive the day, after all.

He did better than survive, he ran his head under a sink and pretended everything was normal and non-sexy for the rest of the night.

Of course, the next day he was a little over-wary. When they were all on the train together heading to the point they needed to enter the Palace they were going to today, and Ryuji made careful efforts not to look at either Ann nor Akira. In fact, he wasn’t gonna look at anybody today. Ryuji was just going to stare vacantly at the back of Yusuke’s head and zone out for this whole subway ride, that’s what he was gonna do.

Yusuke’s hair sure was soft-looking, though, wasn’t it? All silky and dark, looks like if Ryuji tried to run his fingers through it the strands would just slip through his hands like water. And his neck, no one he’d ever met before had a neck as _long_ as Yusuke managed to, graceful and white like some kind of friggin’ geisha or some shit, and suddenly Ryuji realized he was leaning forward to count the notches on Yusuke’s spine as he peered down the back of his collar.

Ryuji made a distressed noise and snapped backwards to straighten his own back. Yusuke turned around curiously, and Ryuji watched the line of his jaw appear in view as he craned his head around to ask, “Ryuji? Is something the matter?”

There was this thing Ryuji had where he’d never really liked looking Yusuke in the eye. He’d thought it was because of how creepy he was, insisted it’s because that stare of his was unnerving but as he looked at dark eyes framed by long, long eyelashes all Ryuji could think was oh shit, or maybe the reason he didn’t like looking at him because Yusuke was somehow the most outrageously attractive person he’d ever met in his life and _that’s_ the part that Ryuji was not comfortable with.

Ryuji sobbed out a groan and bury his face in his hands. Yusuke made another concerned noise, and Ryuji just turned his entire body away and to the side to pretend none of this was happening. Shit. Shit damn hell ass crap, this bisexuality bullshit had been SO much easier back when he’d been on the track team and none of his friends had been hot.

When Ryuji opened his eyes again, it was to the sight of Makoto’s slim, pantyhose-clad ankles crossed delicately over each other, innocently taunting him through his fingers. God, he was so screwed.


End file.
